


It doesn't help to have a partner when you're trying to keep up a charade

by painting



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allergies, Gen, Sneezing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 09:17:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9600509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/painting/pseuds/painting
Summary: The peculiarity of one paladin having an allergy attack is doubled when-- when TWO of them are having-- well, okay, fine, that part's obvious, but it still warrants some kind of investigation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> oh my god this is just an indulgent fic for and by my gay sneeze fetish ass so if that's not your jam then it's time to Go

Not that Hunk doesn’t appreciate the company, but Keith isn’t the first person he was expecting to join him as he prepares lunch for the team. He figures out almost immediately that it’s because the training deck – AKA Keith’s second home – is currently occupied by Pidge and Allura, who are trying to program a very specific training simulation to be utilized that afternoon.

“Keith, you’re just in time! Can you taste this and tell me if it — Whoa, your hair’s wet.”

“Yeah, I just took a shower.” Again, not something Hunk was expecting to hear. Well, okay, it’s not like Keith is _dirty_ or anything, despite Lance’s constant complaints about his hygiene, but showering just a few hours before a scheduled group training session is definitely more Lance-neurotic than Keith-neurotic. Still, there are a lot of reasons why someone might want to take a shower in the middle of the morning, and Hunk doesn’t want to pry.

As a response, Hunk shrugs instead and holds up a spoon. “Okay, well come over here. I want to know how much you think this tastes like tomato sauce. I was able to thin out the texture of the goo and use a few herbs from a couple planets ago and I _think_ it turned out pretty close, but I need a second opinion.”

“Sure,” Keith accepts, and Hunk is about to hand the spoon over when Keith turns around sharply (making Hunk almost drop the spoon, _jeez!_ Give a guy some warning?) and gasps into his forearm. “ _Hh’HHP’_ ** _NGKT_** _chUH!_ ”

“Oh! Bless you. Wow, are you allergic to Altean food goo now that you’ve turned Galra?”

“ ** _AAH_** _’TSSChyew!_ ” Hunk interprets the second sneeze as a confirmation, until Keith turns around and says, “I _didn’t_ just turn – I – _no_ , I’m fine.” He scrunches his face up briefly and sniffs, then holds out his hand for the spoon.

“Oh right, yeah, you mentioned that,” Hunk says with a grin as he passes the spoon over. “I mean, not that it makes a difference. Like we said before, you’re still Keith, even if you’ve got all this new Galra stuff we have to get used to.” He watches Keith expectantly as he tastes the new recipe. “So what do you think?”

Keith somehow manages to uphold a contemplative expression as he sniffles again, then removes the spoon from his mouth. “Is it supposed to be… sweet?” he says, keeping eye contact instead of looking upward like most people do when they’re trying to translate an opinion into words. “Like a curry, almost.”

“Hmm,” Hunk responds, turning back to his ingredients as Keith approaches the sink to rinse off the spoon. “Maybe if I add this weird onion-y thing? I was going for more of a…”

“ _Hht’_ ** _NGKTSH_** _UH!_ ”

“Bless you. I was go—”

“ _Uh’NGHTSHh_ ** _ue_** _!_ ”

“ _Bless_ you! Are you getting sick? Or are you one of those people who always sneezes twice?” Hunk asks. He shakes a couple of dried leaves into the sauce mixture and begins stirring. “Can Galra even get sick?”

“I’m not sick,” Keith says quickly, then Hunk hears him contradict himself by sniffling again.

“But you’ve like, been sick before, right?” Hunk asks, this time hearing a touch of panic lacing his own voice. The thought of Galra bodies being so strong that they were impenetrable to literally all forms of viruses and diseases and ailments is a scary one for sure, just another way in which the odds were stacked against himself and the other paladins.

“I… _yeah_ ,” Keith says, his tone dry as he draws out the word. The water stops running. “But I don’t even know if that h- _hh_ as anything to do with being G _hahh_ lra —  _hhHH_ ** _AhHN_** _TSch!_ ”

Hunk waits for the second one this time, but Keith finally lifts his head from behind his arm so Hunk goes right ahead. “You sure you’re okay? I can heat some of this up and make it into a soup if you want.”

Keith shakes his head. “I’m not sick,” he repeats, but he’s sniffling again, looking increasingly frustrated as he reaches up to rub the side of his nose. Hunk frowns when Keith sets the spoon back on the countertop and says, “I’m gonna go check on Pidge and Allura. I’ll catch you at lunch, okay?”

Hunk hears Keith sneeze again once he’s further down the hall, but it would probably be weird to call out an acknowledgement when he’s so far away, so Hunk doesn’t say anything. He works alone for the better half of the next hour, trying to figure out what kind of base would work well with the sauce. It’ll be difficult to concoct anything that could pass as noodles, but he might be able to pass something off as a sort of mock-rice.

His next experiment is simmering when Pidge comes through the doorway, holding a computer under one arm.

“Wow,” Hunk says. “Did you finish the simulation already?”

“Hardly,” Pidge answers. She sits down on a stool and puts her device on the counter. “I just needed some peace and quiet away from Lance’s _complaining_ ,” she explains.

“Lance was in there with you?”

“Yeah, Allura needed him to test some of the programming. But he’s having some sort of allergic reaction,” Pidge says. “He said he’s not allergic to anything that could be in the castle, so now Coran’s running an analysis on a couple of the rooms to see if some weird space pollen or something might have gotten in.”

“Oh yeah, remember he used to get it bad during the summer?” Hunk reminisces.

“If I ever started to forget, he’d just remind us again.” Pidge starts typing something as Hunk checks the consistency of the rice. Still a little too firm. “But it’s weird; if there was some kind of earthlike pollen on the ship, I’d probably be allergic to it too. But I’m not.”

“Hmm. I don’t know,” Hunk says. “Keith was sneezing a lot in here earlier.”

“Keith was?”

“Yeah.”

“That is weird.”

“Yeah.”

“Knowing the two of them? They probably both got into something – it probably isn’t the ship after all,” Pidge guesses. “Maybe I should go and tell Coran so he doesn’t waste any more time examining the ventilation system.”

 

-

 

When lunch is served, everyone sits down and takes their first bites all before Lance shows up. He’s definitely looking worse for wear, with his nose colored a bright, irritated pink and his eyes red-rimmed and a little puffy.

“The food looks _great_ , Hunk,” he says as he slides into his usual chair next to Keith. “I just wish I could taste some of it, it seems like such a _waste_ —”

“What’s wrong with you?” Keith asks. He doesn’t look like he’s in as bad shape as Lance is, and Hunk wonders if maybe what had happened in the kitchen was just a fluke.

“Uh, I’m having an _allergy attack_ ,” Lance explains. He takes a bite of food from his plate and swallows. “Just look at me, I – oh, hey, Hunk, this is pretty great.”

“So much for not being able to taste anything,” Pidge remarks. Lance sniffles in response, and despite his exaggerations, Hunk can tell that he’s definitely not faking anything. “Anyway, our ventilation check came back empty, so it must be something else.”

Lance shakes his head, then parts his lips and stares at the wall with unfocused eyes for what seems like ages. Finally, he turns away from Keith, shutting his eyes and raising his eyebrows. “ _HuhhhEhTkschh! Tschhh! EhHTCHSH! Ih’hhHAHtchYEW!_ ”

Hunk holds off on saying anything until the fourth one, knowing that Lance usually takes a little longer to get through a sneezing fit when he gets like this. “Wow, something really is getting to you,” he comments.

“No kidding,” Lance agrees enthusiastically. “Hey, are Shiro and Coran…?”

“Shiro’s helping Allura with that simulator,” Pidge answers. “She still needed someone to test it and…”

“…he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Got it,” Lance finishes. He sniffles a couple of times before saying, “Seriously, that thing is freaky. There’s this one part where—”

“Ah!” Pidge protests. “No spoilers. It’s going to be ready in a couple hours, then you can all see for yourselves.”

“That’s… not making me feel better,” Hunk admits. He remembers Allura saying something about the exercise being psychoanalytical in addition to being physical, designed to detect lapses in focus during battle and possible reasons as to why that might be, from distractions to personality. He’s not exactly excited to have new insecurities discovered and revealed.

Keith stays quiet, but Hunk notices that he’s stopped eating. He wants to ask if there’s something wrong with the food, but Keith’s breath skips once, twice, and then—

Nothing.

Hunk forgot how stoic Keith was when he wasn’t in the heat of battle (especially compared to Lance, who Hunk figured was expressive enough for the both of them). He could’ve easily been having just as much trouble as Lance this whole time, but no one would know that if he could help it.

“What’s wrong with _you?_ ” Lance asks, likely a conscious echo of Keith’s query just a few moments ago.

“Nothing,” Keith says smoothly. “I’m fine.” Keith’s response, unsurprisingly, is as far from Lance’s earlier statement as possible. Being Lance’s best friend for years has taught Hunk that the better he’s feeling, the more he tends to complain. Knowing Keith so closely as a teammate for only a few months has lead Hunk to believe that he’s probably not the type of person to complain despite anything that might be happening to him physically.

“Whatever Lance is reacting to might be getting to you too,” Pidge reasons.

“What do you mean?” Lance asks. He’s pulled out a couple of tissues – or, the space version of tissues, which are actually quite a bit thicker and… squishier than the ones on Earth ever were – and proceeds to turn away from the group and blow his nose.

“Hunk said you were sneezing a lot earlier, Keith, which is abnormal for you unless you’re…”

“You told Pidge?” Keith interrupts.

“Hey!” Hunk holds up his hands defensively. “ _I_ was just making conversation. You didn’t say it was a secret!”

Keith pauses at that, and looks like he’s thinking about… something. “I guess not,” he finally says, then directs his gaze toward Pidge. “Seriously, though, I’m fine now. So don’t worry about—”

“ _Hp’Tkschh! EhtTSSHh! CHSHh’Yew!_ ”

“ _Uh’hh’HHT_ ** _NGKTSH_** _huh!_ ”

“Oh my god.” Lance emerges from the crook of his elbow, sniffling as he looks at Keith incredulously. “Did you just try to _hide_ your sneeze behind my sneeze?”

“Are you serious?” Keith asks, his tone equally incredulous.

“It wouldn’t have worked anyway; Keith’s sneezes are a lot louder,” Hunk adds.

“Hey!” Lance protests, like it’s some sort of contest. It’s kind of ironic, actually, because Lance has never been shy about sneezing or having allergies or anything of the sort, but Keith’s unwavering grasps at control, at going unnoticed, seem to be doing the opposite for him – at least in this case.

“It’s true,” Pidge says. “His are more like—”

“Why are we talking about this?” Keith interrupts. He makes this little snuffling noise as he rubs his nose again, and Hunk thinks it’s kind of cute in that it’s so… uncharacteristic of him. Not that he’d ever say that to Keith.

“I don’t think this is a coincidence,” Pidge decides. “You should go into the medical bay to get checked out. Just to be on the safe side.”

 

-

 

“I don’t understand,” Allura says with her back to the group as she faces a large set of computer screens set up on the wall of the ship’s medical bay (or, at least one part of it – Hunk suspects that a castle this big has got to have a larger infirmary than what he’s seen, but he isn’t particularly eager to explore). “There were no abnormalities in the air circulation scan.”

The screens both flicker before they’re overtaken by a scrolling block of Altean text. Allura looks pensive for a moment, and then she says, “Both biological examinations are showing regular results as well.”

“See?” Keith hops down from the exam table, his body language radiating impatience. “I’m fine. So is Lance, apparently.” He tilts his head back to the second exam table, where Lance is sitting and looking like he desperately wants to kick his legs since his feet aren’t touching the floor. “So can we just get to the training deck and forget about it?”

Shiro asks abruptly, “How are you feeling, Keith?”

“I’m fine.”

“I didn’t ask if you were fine, I asked how you were feeling,” Shiro clarifies. Whoa – for all of Keith’s deflecting, Hunk has never seen someone find a way to find a way to counter it. He supposes that Shiro’s got a lot of practice.

Keith sighs, sounding mostly fed up but also, finally, a little resigned. He crosses his arms. “Itchy, I guess,” he answers.

“Where?”

“I… _everywhere_ ,” Keith decides. “My face? My skin?”

“What about you, Lance?” Shiro asks.

“Yeah, me too,” Lance agrees, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and a little raspy before he clears his throat. “Like I’m about to break out in hives or something.”

“Hmm.” Pidge perks up, walks over to Lance, and peers more closely at his face. “Lance, can I see your hand?”

“…Why?” Lance asks, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“Oh, just give it here.” Pidge doesn’t wait for a response before grabbing his hand and examining his wrist and his palm, then turning it over and running her fingers over his knuckles. She doesn’t look finished, but Lance snatches his hand back anyway and sneezes swiftly into his forearm.

“ _HhKTSHh! Hh’TKchSH! ChTSHH’eht’_ ** _CHyew_** _!_ ”

“Bless you,” Hunk says.

“Your hands are really dry,” Pidge adds.

“Excuse you?” Lance argues. “Unlike _some_ people on this ship, I make the effort to moisturize them twice a—”

“Believe me, I know,” Pidge interrupts. “That’s why it’s so weird. What did you do after breakfast? Like, did you touch anything weird?”

Lance scoffs. “Does that seem like something _I_ would do?”

“Yes,” Hunk says, and he’s not surprised that Pidge and Shiro speak their confirmations at the same time that he does.

“Okay – Keith, what about you? It’s obvious that you’re reacting to the exact same thing.”

“I was training,” Keith answers smoothly.

“No you weren’t,” Pidge says. “Allura and I were in the training deck all morning. Unless there’s another—”

“The pool!” Allura realizes. “To reverse the antigravity mechanism, the jets release a chemical that’s known to trigger histamine production upon contact. Alteans bodies are able to adapt to it asymptomatically, but I learned from Pidge that your bodies tend to respond… differently.”

“Aw, Keith and Lance went _swimming_ together,” Pidge teases.

Lance frowns. “So I can’t use the pool unless I want to spend the rest of the day sneezing? How is that fair?”

“Well, there is a paste we can apply to alleviate the itching,” Allura says. “But as for the rest of your symptoms – I’m afraid you’ll both have to wait for the reaction to go away on its own.”

“So that means,” Shiro decides, “we’re going to have to postpone our simulation exercise until you’re both feeling better. In the meantime, Pidge, Hunk, why don’t you talk to Coran and see if there’s a way to change the chemical makeup in the pool?”

“That’s a great idea,” Pidge agrees. “Wouldn’t want to stick a fork in Lance and Keith’s new morning splash sessions.”

Hunk, for all the space risotto in the world, can't say that he disagrees.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a lot of criticisms about season 2 but it gave me inspo for the pool so i had to do what i had to do. thanks big voltron writers. thanks everyone


End file.
